


Fireworks Are Hailin' Over Little Eden Tonight

by siriuspiggyback



Series: Hope There's Someone (Who Will Take Care of Me) [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dave Is Alive, Family Bonding, Fireworks, Flashbacks, Fourth of July, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, M/M, No Apocalypse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Klaus Hargreeves, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 14:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18317297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuspiggyback/pseuds/siriuspiggyback
Summary: They were looking to the future, now. No longer did they wallow in mistakes and old aches. Unfortunately, sometimes Klaus forgot to look back, pushed his past a little too far away. It made it harder to predict when the past would come back to haunt him.A bang interrupted the night, shaking the ground. Light exploded around them. Klaus dropped to the ground.Or, there are fireworks and flashbacks and Klaus needs to find Dave.





	Fireworks Are Hailin' Over Little Eden Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to all who commented, you guys are amazing! here are some more words for yall

The summer heat kissed Klaus’ skin, warm and balmy, without the sticky humidity of Vietnam. The sun had almost disappeared over the horizon, providing a blissful reprieve. They had spent the evening out there, basking in the light and laughing. A family barbecue. Klaus attempted to imagine Reggie joining them, sunglasses and a Hawaiian shirt, and giggled to himself.

 

He was helping Luther and Allison carry some blankets out into the courtyard, ready for the chill of night. He whined that Five could have done it in half the time, but the boy - or old man - waved a lazy hand from where he was dozing in a newly purchased hammock, and told him to respect his elders. Luther had let out a rumbling laugh, and Klaus was struck by how different he looked from the Number One he had reunited with in March. It was the Fourth of July. In the four months since the Almost Apocalypse, they had become more of a family than in all their years under the stern eye of Reginald. 

 

Dave and Diego had gone out to pick up donuts from Griddy’s. Dave was now taking every opportunity to explore the new world he had found himself in, eyes sparkling with each new discovery. He liked to come home and tell Klaus about what he had learnt. Somehow, his words turned everyday objects into miracles. ( _ “They can make deaf people hear again now, did you know that? My pa’ lost his hearing in his left ear back in World War Two, and now they can just put something in their ear - it’s crazy, man!) _

 

Klaus took a sip of his drink; just lemonade, they didn’t allow alcohol in the house anymore. They were looking to the future, now. No longer did they wallow in mistakes and old aches. Unfortunately, sometimes Klaus forgot to look back, pushed his past a little too far away. Sometimes he would pretend a little too well, and they would all forget the traumas experienced. It made it harder to predict when the past would come back to haunt them.

 

A bang interrupted the night, shaking the ground. Light exploded around them. Klaus dropped to the ground.

 

He cradled his head. His helmet was gone, probably flung away with the force of the blast, and he felt exposed without it. He had seen how easily skulls could break under pressure, cracking open like an egg, precious brains spilling and slipping. He had seen it on the bodies of friends and enemies, and their ghosts afterwards, trying to scoop the grey matter back inside. Another bang. The light flashed from behind his closed eyes. He knew he should open them; anyone could sneak up on him like this. A Viet Cong soldier could gut him from behind before he even pulled his rifle. His rifle. Shit. Where was it? His trembling hands reached out, searching for the familiar metal of the barrel, coming up empty. People were yelling, or maybe just the ghosts, and nothing made sense. He peeled his eyes opened, crawled forwards. His gun couldn’t be far. Where was Dave? He couldn’t see him. 

 

Dave. Dave. He was-

 

Nothing made sense. His gun was gone, his helmet gone, and he was searching but all his hands could find was gravel, too smooth-

 

Someone yelled over the rattle of guns, “What the hell, what’s happening,” and a distant part of Klaus’ brain thought,  _ yeah, man, same. _

 

Where was Dave, oh God, please, where was-

 

No, Dave was okay. Wasn’t he? He was with Diego. Diego would protect him. He just had to get to him.

 

But why was Diego here? Diego didn’t belong in this time, in this place.

 

People were still talking, but they didn’t make sense, because they weren’t the grunts of soldiers. Some of them were soft and feminine. 

 

Dave. He had to-

 

“...Klaus, it’s okay, you’re home-”

 

Home? Home wasn’t here. Home was Dave. Home was his siblings. 

 

Wait.

 

Klaus shook his head. Those were his siblings, talking to him now, voices soothing. They couldn’t be there - here- in Vietnam, just like how the ground beneath him couldn’t exist in a jungle, and the nail varnish on his hands wouldn’t have been allowed.

 

“Dave?” he croaked. 

 

“Dave’s with Diego, remember? They’re picking up donuts,” said Allison. Allison. Of course. 

 

Klaus pushed himself to his feet, knees threatening to drop him. Luther reached out, steadying him, and Klaus tried not to flinch away. 

 

“I need to- I need to find Dave,” said Klaus. He took a step forward. Then another. 

 

Vanya spoke up. “I think you should sit down, Klaus.”

 

Another bang. Klaus ducked instinctively, hands tight over his ears, but managed to stay on his feet. “No,” he insisted, “Dave needs me, he won’t know what’s happening.” He pushed forward, as fast as his legs would take him.

 

“Don’t be an idiot,” said Five. “I’ll take you. It’ll be quicker.”

 

Klaus leapt forward, with a gasped, “Thank you!” and grabbed one of Five’s tiny shoulders. And then they were gone.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Dave was laughing. 

 

One thing that Dave had discovered about 2019 was that people were people were people. Sure, sometimes the slang was confusing, and he didn’t understand references, but some things were timeless. Like this, for example: Diego getting tongue-tied, talking to the pretty girl behind the counter. Someone failing at talking to a beautiful woman would  _ always _ be hilarious.

 

“Shut up,” hissed Diego under his breath as she moved away to bag up their order.

 

“You just compared yourself to  _ Batman,” _ Dave said between bubbles of laughter. 

 

Diego glared. “She was looking at the knife holsters weirdly.”

 

“That’s because they’re weird! I’m in the wrong decade, and even I know that it’s weird.”

 

“I’d like to see you do better,” said Diego, crossing his arms defensively. He looked adorable. Dave suppressed another laugh.

 

“I’m a-” Dave paused, reminded himself that things were different now, “a gay man. I don’t think that my skills with women should be the standard to aspire to.”

 

Diego just grumbled under his breath as the waitress returned with a huge bag of donuts, pulling out his wallet and avoiding eye contact, ears going pink.

 

Dave pressed his lips together so that his smirk wouldn’t show, and-

 

Someone had set off a mine. Fuck, it was an ambush, it was- Where was Klaus? Dave was ducked down low, seeking cover, back pressed against- something-

 

Another bang, flames licking up. He hoped to God that none of his friends were hurt, that today it was some other sorry son-of-a-bitch that would be shipped home in a body bag. He prayed that Klaus was safe somewhere, ducked down in a foxhole. The deafening sounds of gunshots had him coiled tight. He knew he needed to return fire, push back, but his hands were empty, fuck, where was his gun?

 

Voices. Too many, drowning each other out, hidden under the sounds of bullets impacting the ground, hitting a body. He couldn’t make out anything other than the odd word (- Okay? - Vet - stand back - don’t -). If any of it was an important order, he was screwed. He had no idea what he was supposed to be doing, falling back or pushing on, but he supposed it didn’t matter, because he was pinned down, unarmed and defenceless, bullets raining down around him. He tucked himself down lower, making himself a smaller target. He knew that if the Viet Cong got close enough it wouldn’t make a difference, but what else could he do?

 

Another bang. This one sounded louder, closer, maybe. How long until his little bubble of safety was lit up, leaving another crater where his body had been? It was only a matter of time. He gripped his dog tags hard, hoping that he would be identifiable still, so that his mother would have something to bury. Maybe Klaus would visit his grave sometime. 

 

He was muttering under his breath, he knew, the words pouring out, soundless underneath the roar of war. Half a prayer, his lover’s name, a promise that if he survived this he would take Klaus and live out in the country, with a cat and honeybees and no fighting ever again. The words were shapeless and half formed, gasped out between shaking breaths, lungs panicked and tight. 

 

Voices all around him, all of them unfamiliar. What he wouldn’t give to hear the yell of his commanding officer, or a shouted joke from Johnson, who always made the situation seem a little less dire. He would give anything for Klaus to reach out and hold his hand, brush his lips over Dave’s tear stained cheeks, but then Klaus would be here too, another pig for slaughter, and Dave would die a thousand deaths for Klaus to live another day, he would-

 

A voice.

 

“...Dave, sweetheart, can you hear me? You’re okay, we’re-”

 

He knew that voice. It wasn’t quite right - not scared enough, not broken enough for here, under fire and at the jaws of death - but under that, he knew it.

 

“Klaus?” he asked. Was this real? Maybe he had died, maybe this was heaven. He was afraid to open his eyes and find out.

 

“Yeah, yes, that’s right, it’s me, it’s Klaus. Just keep listening to me, alright? You’re safe, you aren’t…” 

 

Klaus' words weren’t making sense, but that was okay, because they settled on Dave like a blanket, soft and familiar. He took a breath, a real breath, and he could smell sugar and Klaus’ skin, not the rot and smoke of ‘Nam. 

 

Klaus was speaking still, and Dave tried to focus in. “... but I need you to talk to me. Can I touch you? I’m right here, either way, but if you want-”

 

“Please,” said Dave, whispered, sobbed. “Please, I need you.”

 

Arms circled around him, skinny but toned and sure and comforting. Dave pressed forwards, burrowed his face into the kind place between Klaus’ neck and shoulder, where he could hear the steady thump of his love’s heart.

 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Klaus chanted, “we’re safe, I promise, I’ve got you.”

 

The earth was still rocked by explosions every few seconds, as Dave keened and Klaus rubbed his back, but the other sounds - the guns, the yells, the crackle of flames and helicopter blades - they were fading, becoming distant. The other sounds were coming back. The hum of fluorescent lights, and then hushed mumbling of a crowd, like when his Ma’ took him to the synagogue as a kid. 

 

As Dave’s breathing slowed and his pulse stopped stuttering, a realisation came to him, confusing but unavoidable: he wasn’t in Nam’. The squeak of the lino underneath his feet, the crisp, artificial air, none of it was adding up. His skin was too clean, without the glaze of dirt and sweat and blood that he had become accustomed to. 

 

He peeked out from the crook of Klaus’ shoulder, momentarily blinded by the harsh lighting. People were looking at him, expressions ranging from shock to pity. Civilians. People out to eat - donuts, he remembered vaguely - only to watch as Dave had…

 

Fuck. Shame swelled up, threatening to choke him. He had curled up on the floor and muttered to himself like a lunatic, crying as he shook and gasped. A flashback, he knew. He had experienced it before, and guided Klaus back to him on a handful of occasions, but never like this, in public. He tried not to think what his father would have said, had he seen him now. Tried not to remember how his father had sneered at reports of shellshock, how he called them pussies as he drained another bottle until his hands stopped shaking.

 

“That’s it, baby, just breathe, that’s it,” Klaus was saying. Dave noticed how Klaus’ voice shook slightly. He hadn’t even thought of how Klaus’ was coping with this. Fireworks, he thought. Of course. Fourth of July. He should have thought of it earlier, too busy being happy and carefree, and now look. 

 

“Can we go home?” Dave whispered. He could feel the eyes of the crowd gathered, and wanted to disappear. 

 

“Of course, of course,” agreed Klaus. “Do you want to go with Five, or do you want to drive back with Diego?”

 

“Five. Please,” said Dave. The thought of sitting in a car was Klaus’ brother, quiet and awkward, was enough to make his throat close up.

 

“Okay, you got it. Five! Can you- yeah. Do you think you can take us at the same time? No, it’s okay, just- come get me too, if you can,” said Klaus, and he vaguely heard Five reply but he couldn’t focus enough to listen. “Dave, Five’s gonna take you, but I’ll join you as soon as I can, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Dave agreed weakly. Another firework exploded overhead, and the pair startled, twitching. 

 

Klaus pulled back a little, leaving a hand on his shoulder. The chasm between them left Dave feeling shaky and unsure, chest aching. He took a shaking breath, determined not to fall apart again. Not yet.

 

“Five’s gonna touch your arm, alright? And then he’s going to take you home. Just nod when you’re ready,” said Klaus, so kind and considerate and taking care not to startle him. Dave wondered if he would stay sane without this gentle sanctuary.

 

Dave squared his shoulders, as if about to face his C.O., or his father. He nodded, sharp and square. He didn’t flinch when a hand gripped his bicep, and then he was twisting, tumbling, he was-

 

He was home.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Klaus wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs and stood, eyes on the space where Dave had been. “Well,” he announced, “show’s over, ladies and not-ladies. Time to go back to your donuts.” Faces turned away, awkward and embarrassed now that they were being watched in return. The noise in the diner picked up, loud in contrast to the hushed silence of earlier. 

 

Diego was watching him still. He had been able to ignore it before, focusing on Dave, but now it was harder. It made him aware of the way his muscles betrayed him, trembling faintly. Klaus painted on a smile. 

 

“You’re good with him,” said Diego, dark eyes studying him. 

 

Klaus blinked. “Thanks,” he said. 

 

“I get it now,” Diego added, as if it explained anything at all.

 

“Get what?”

 

“You two. How you’re making it work. No offence, bro, but you aren’t exactly known for being a stable and committed guy.”

 

Klaus shrugged, picked at his nail varnish. “It’s all him. He just- he doesn’t give up.”

 

“Nah, that’s not it. You’re good for him, too. I see it now. You were always a sensitive kind of kid, but you never let yourself be serious, always played everything as a joke. Not with him. You’re real with him,” said Diego, a half smile on his face.

 

Klaus swallowed, glanced away. He hoped that Diego was right.

 

Five popped back in a flash of light. Klaus twitched, but Diego settled a hand on his shoulder, keeping him present.

 

“Ready?” asked Five.

 

“Yeah,” agreed Klaus, “let’s go home.”

  
  
  
  


By the time Diego arrived back with the donuts, the fireworks had stopped. Klaus and Dave were burrowed together under a thick blanket, looking up at the night sky. They looked calm, expressions clear and open. The rest of the family formed a loose circle, passing the bag of donuts around, bickering. The night was still and quiet, warm but not too hot, and maybe Klaus was still a little jittery from the adrenaline but as he rested his head on Dave’s shoulder, he figured that he was pretty lucky. They were getting better, all of them, and they were together.  They were home.

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone has any ideas, id love to hear them! comments are life


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